Murphy popped his head into the kitchen.
“We’re all set,” he said, ripping off his rubber gloves and bagging them. “Thanks for your time.”
Tom finally let himself relax. His secret was safe, at least for now.
“Find anything?” Rebecca called without looking back or even getting up.
“Have a good night,” was all Murphy said. “We’ll see ourselves to the door.”
“I can’t believe Brendan Murphy thinks you had anything to do with Kelly’s death,” Rebecca said with disgust.
“He’s just doing his job,” said Tom.
“Yeah? Well, his job stinks,” said Rebecca.
Tom stood from the table, left the kitchen, and caught up with Murphy at the front door. “Brendan, I hope you’re satisfied.”
“Like I said, we’re all set.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Fox called out from the front walk. “Sorry again about the intrusion. I’ll see you at the game.”
“Yeah, see you at the game,” Tom said, hoping Fox realized how ludicrous he sounded trying to put things back to normal. “I’m assuming you didn’t find anything helpful here,” Tom said to Murphy.
Murphy didn’t respond, but he couldn’t hide his disappointment, either.
“Well, I hope now you’ll really start investigating elsewhere,” said Tom.
Murphy’s eyes narrowed, and he put his face close to Tom’s. “Guys like you always screw up,” Murphy said in a low tone. “That’s been my experience. I want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you to slip, Tom. And when you do, I’ll be right there to slap the cuffs on.”
“Have yourself a good night, Brendan,” Tom said, closing the door behind him.
Rebecca bounded down the stairs just as Tom was coming back up.
“Heading home?” he asked.
Rebecca nodded her head in the direction of Jill’s bedroom. “I think you and Jill could use some alone time,” Rebecca said, buttoning her coat.
“She’s not asleep, is she?” Tom said.
Rebecca shook her head no, kissed Tom on one cheek, and patted him playfully on the other. “You’re a good man, Tom Hawkins,” she said. “A very good man.”
“I try.”
Tom closed the front door and watched through the sidelight window as Rebecca traversed the walkway. He kept watching until she disappeared into the dark of night.
He breathed out the last bits of tension still coiled up inside him.
On his way back up the stairs, Tom’s cell phone buzzed. Strange, because the only person who texted him was Jill. Tom looked at his cell phone’s display screen and saw the familiar text message icon, but an unfamiliar phone number.
Tom clicked the envelope icon and realized a picture was attached to the message. The picture began filling his phone’s display screen, painting rows of colored pixels, like a magician’s curtain being raised to reveal whatever magic lay behind.
Tom’s eyes widened in surprise when the image finished downloading. His heart kicked into overdrive, and his mouth went dry. He read the text message with an open mouth.
I hope you enjoy these!!! XOXO :) UR Eyes Only!
It was a picture of a teenage girl. She was lying naked on a bed. The girl’s back was arched. Her legs were open slightly. One of the girl’s hands was hidden between her knees. The other she extended beyond range of the camera’s lens. The girl’s breasts were showing. Her nipples were erect. Her lips were puckered in a pouty and seductive kiss.
He didn’t know this girl. He’d never seen her before.
Tom’s phone buzzed again.
He looked.
It was another text message. With another picture attached.
Chapter 22
Seated at her conference table inside her crammed and cramped office, Superintendent Didomenico looked defeated and worn.
“What were these girls doing?” she asked Rainy.
“I believe they were sending text messages with their pictures,” Rainy said. “But there is no way for me to prove it.”
Didomenico, a meticulous woman in her fifties, wore her wavy hair short. The coloring, Rainy observed, was a mix of blond, brown, and—not unexpectedly—a lot of gray. The white piping of her black sweater tastefully matched the single strand of pearls around her neck. Judging by the numerous staff interruptions for which Didomenico had to apologize, the job evidently pulled in more directions than the superintendent had limbs. Yet her face didn’t show the strain, and her eyes remained patient and kind.
The superintendent sifted through dozens of computer printouts of the images Rainy had brought with her. All the images were sanitized in some way, to conceal anything revealing, except for the girls’ faces. That was what she had come to see Didomenico about.
Rainy was convinced that Lindsey’s image belonged to a fetish series, previously unknown to authorities, that was actively being sold to child porn rings on the Web. Teen girls sexting—that was what Rainy believed the multimedia format images to be.
Defense attorneys liked it when their clients were found in possession of only known series. It was easier for them to argue that the evidence had been planted on their clients’ computers. Known images and series were widely available on the Internet and therefore more easily obtained. But a single unknown image put some doubt into that defense. Hundreds of unknown images made that strategy almost laughable.
It was hard to get one’s hands on an unknown series. It took work. It took effort. It took real commitment. Rainy knew how men viewed images like the ones of Lindsey Wells. They were hot, sexy, and alluring. The girls were no longer prepubescent. They were in their late teens, with bodies that were well developed. They could turn on most any man. They certainly did James Mann. It didn’t surprise her in the least that a market existed for these images.
Of the forty girls in what Rainy dubbed James Mann’s Text Image Collection, ten of them (according to the superintendent) attended, or had recently graduated from, Shilo High School. Each girl had taken an image of herself in some stage of undress. And somehow, those images ended up on James Mann’s home computer.
“This is very troubling news, Agent Miles,” Didomenico said as she flipped through the picture archive again. “What do we do from here?”
“Well, I’m going to want to speak with the girls individually. I need to know when the pictures were taken. What their ages were at the time. And more importantly, why they took the pictures.”
“You’d question all the girls?” Didomenico said with alarm.
“It’s the only way for me to track down the path these images took. Of course, they could have been emailed. Uploaded to a Web site. They might have even been taken using a Web camera on a site like Chatroulette or Omegle. Hard to tell. I think they were sent by cell phone. But that’s just my theory.”
“Well, in that case, why not just check with the cell phone providers?” Didomenico said.
“Would if I could,” Rainy replied. “But the only cell phone provider that stores that sort of information beyond thirty days is BlackBerry. So even if we did obtain a search warrant for their cell phones, we’d never be able to see the content of the messages the girls sent.”
“I hate the idea of your questioning all these girls. News of that would spread quite quickly, I’m afraid. It could even become a national story, with lasting implications for the girls. What good will come of this, Agent Miles? If you don’t mind my asking.”
